Lena stood in the middle of her apartment long after the call ended, phone still pressed to her ear even though the line had gone dead.
Moving in.
With him.
Her chest felt too tight, her thoughts spiraling in every direction at once. This place—small, imperfect, cluttered with memories—had been her refuge. The walls had heard her cries, her laughter, her whispered fears at three in the morning when the twins kicked relentlessly and sleep felt like a myth.
And now Zayn Specter was about to step into it and take her away from it.
She pressed a hand to her belly instinctively, grounding herself.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay.”
Initially she wanted to oppose, but if there was one thing that she learns about Zayn: he was relentless and stubborn like a mule.
She moved on autopilot, grabbi
